When We With Daisies Lie
by Made-Of-Clockwork
Summary: This is a recollection of Jem's encounters with a girl throughout his years of being a silent brother. -Updates frequently-


A dense layer of fog encircled the stone monuments that had not yet born but the winter months had since long you listened carefully you could almost hear the soft whispers of those fallen;such lonely stories were weaved by their hollow voices-and I could I longed for those days of joy, days without silence.

It had only been a few months but time seemed to pass as if I had lived an it worth it?A life with no end as opposed to one cut uncommonly short?

I moved as nothing but a shadow among the damp grounds that were riddled with purple Peony and rotting Chrysanthemum petals.A trip I had taken most everyday after being brought to the city and every one of those trips had passed uneventful, everyone until that particular morning.

I heard it before it had made itself known and I knew what it was instantly.I could identify it as if it had been the sound of my own voice. I moved forward, searching for the source of the sound through the curtain of mist before the image made itself clear. A young girl around the age of six stood facing two headstones, clear determination was written across her features as she balanced the instrument between her chin and shoulder and while her small hands made great effort to hold down the strings needed for the right was nothing particularly special about this girls abilities. She played as well as any inexperienced six year old would play-terrible-but it wasn't her skill or lack of skill in this case that caught my eye it was the way she delivered the notes. With a pride and confidence that was mimicked only by someone who played in front of large crowds.

When the song concluded she carefully laid the instrument back in its case, her brown hair that was carefully braided and tied in the back with an ivory bow tumbled over her shoulder as she did so.

"Did you like that?" she asked, in a sweet high pitched voice.

I blinked and looked around wildly, startled by her around us the grounds were empty, not another living soul except her and I stood there, and I was not supposed to be seen.

"Aunt Maggie said I played it perfectly yesterday...maybe if I play it some more it will wake ya' two up" She laughed in the same small squeaky voice only a child could bare and flashed a gap toothed smile.

As you could imagine, the sense of relief that had taken over me once I realized she was talking to the two whose names were carved into the front of the stone-her parents I then assumed- was almost tiring.

"I wrote a letter for ya," she scrunched her face up and looked down at her hands."I don't think its all that good though so I threw it can't do much reading while you're sleeping either so there is no way you could read it…..You know, its boring without you guys. I really hope you wake up soon.I miss you to much for you to be asleep forever, and daddy you promised to to me to the orchestra for my you think you can wake up by then so we can go?We don't have to if you're still tired..."

The girl paused for a long brown eyes-that were the same color as her hair-held a spark of hope in them as she stared at the gravestones in front of her.

Now, even after all these years that one moment in time has stuck with me as if i had seen it only seconds before and my mere describing it to you will never allow you to fully grasp the image as I had seen it in that was just so ordinary, so refreshingly young and full of life that I was fully contempt with just watching her, because if I were to have any interaction-even if I had been the boy I was before- would mean the destruction of that very simplicity and innocence that I had so admired about her even then.

When the moment had come that she realized her question would go unanswered she sighed and plucked at the edges of her blue dress, "I'll try 'again tomorrow." She kissed her palm then placed it on the two pieces of cold, wet stone before turning, her form dissolving slowly into the the fog as she walked away.

I could do nothing but stand watch as she left, her head hanging low and her black Sunday shoes becoming dirty and scuffed as she dragged them across the cobble stone. I drew my hood back up then started back for the the while unable to ignore the tightness that had formed in my chest. The rituals they had performed had taken so much of myself away, but the sight of this strange little girl had sparked something in very small but without a doubt there,a flicker of light that kept me from losing myself completely within the dark, empty expanse of my own mind and soul.


End file.
